Defeated
by asdbvjkdfbahjfbv
Summary: Rose believed my flirtatious personality towards her was simply out of amusement or just a little crush; if only she knew differently. Chapter 29 of Shadow Kiss in Adrian's point of view.


**A/N: So this takes place in Shadow Kiss, chapter twenty-nine. Even though I adore Dimitri and Rose, I love Adrian and Rose. So I decided to recap this part so that it's in Adrian's point of view instead of Rose's, since it's right before she leaves and all.**

I do not own any Vampire Academy characters or books, nor the plot. All credit goes to Richelle Mead.

Chapter Song;  
Waiting Outside The Lines, Greyson Chance

It was say, a week, after the Strigoi attack when Rose Hathaway showed up at my door.

No Moroi or dhampirs had had classes since the attack, but their curfew had definitely stayed the same, and when she showed up, I probably should've been in bed at the time. When I opened the door and saw Rose standing there, my face must've showed every little bit of shock and surprise and even relief that I was feeling, because she flashed me a tiny smile that made my heart sink.

"Little dhampir," I said, stepping aside, a bit of amusement sparking somewhere inside of me. "Come in."

She did, and the fact that she sucked in a deep, nearly tortured and not exactly audible breath, she must've smelled all of the alcohol as she passed me. Frowning, I watched as she looked around, observing her surroundings. The guest house the Academy had given me was okay, but I never really made an effort to keep it clean. All I did was drink, drink, drink since the attack. Empty bottles and dirty clothes were strewn on the floor and by the TV, and on the small table sitting next to my couch was a half-full bottle of vodka, and on the bottle was something written in Russian. The lights were dim and the TV was on, flashing some soap opera I hadn't been paying attention to.

Rose picked up the bottle of vodka and tried to read the label. "Bad time?" She asked, setting it back down.

"Never a bad time for you," I told her, a small grin playing on my lips. She turned to face me, her eyes studying my face. She probably thought I was drunk. I probably didn't look my best, what with the loss of sleep and all, but I still looked like the same good-looking Adrian Ivashkov, of course. But the obvious dark circles under my eyes and hollowness of my face made it quite clear that the last week wasn't made up of my best days. Stress is a bitch. "Haven't seen much of you." I sat down on the couch and waved her over to one of the armchairs.

"I haven't wanted to be seen," She admitted, taking a seat in the armchair and leaning back.

I thought back on the past few days. It was true and rather obvious; she _didn't_ want to be seen. Replaying what I could remember, I realized she was never seen with Lissa as much as before. If Lissa wasn't with Rose, she was with Christian. If Rose wasn't with Lissa, she was Lord knows where. A thought came to me, and I wondered if she'd been mourning by herself when she wasn't with Lissa. Trying to comfort and reassure and recompose herself in a way that only the Rose Hathaway could. A slight pang of guilt shot through me, thinking maybe I should've took those chances to go see her. I could've took one of those chances to talk to her, to comfort her _myself_. A lot of people had died during the attack; teacher, Guardians, Moroi. And to be exact, Rose must've been mourning over one person and one person only; Dimitri Belikov. It almost hurt to think that her heart had truly belonged to him, it was clear enough, but I understood how she must've felt. I knew how it felt to know that you couldn't have something you simply longed for.

"You look worse than I do," She said suddenly. "I didn't think that was possible."

I grabbed the bottle of vodka off of the table, bringing it to my lips and taking a long drink. "Nah, you always look good. As for me..." I hesitated, scratching my jaw. "Well, it's hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There's so much sorrow around here. You can't even begin to understand." I knew she understood, though. She had to. "It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It's overwhelming. It makes your dark aura look downright_ cheerful_."

"Is that why you're drinking?"

"Yup. It's shut my aura-vison right off, so I can't give you a report today." I tried to make the statement seem sarcastic, but I couldn't put the energy into it. I offered Rose the bottle, and she shook her head. I shrugged and took another long, slow drink. "So what can I do for you, Rose? I have a feeling you aren't here to check on me." The last part disappointed me just a bit, but I refused to show it.

It took a little while for her to answer, but when she did, I was rather surprised. "I need money."

I arched an eyebrow, first wondering what on Earth she would need it for at a time like this. "Unexpected. From you, at least. I get that kind of request a lot from others. Pray tell, what would I be funding?"

She looked away from me, her eyes falling upon the TV. Some commercial for a kind of deodordant was on. "I'm leaving the academy," She said finally.

I took a second to register what she'd said. At first, I thought she was joking, then I saw the seriousness that was set on her face. It was first shock that settled inside of me, then along came the disappointment, followed by the hurt. It was so sudden, and I felt like she could've gave me a little headsup. But who was I to say anything? Rose believed my flirtatious personality towards her was simply out of amusement or just a little crush; if only she knew differently.

Swallowing down the lump that was beginning to form in my throat, I threw on a careless expression. "Also unexpected. You're only a few months out from graduation."

Rose's consuming, brown eyes met my glossy, green ones. "It doesn't matter. I have things to do now."

"I never figured you'd be one of the dropout guardians. You going to join the blood whores?" I was joking and definitely didn't mean it, but I still felt bad for saying it.

"No," She said, frowning, eyebrows knitting together. "Of course not."

"Don't act so offended. That's not an unreasonable assumption. If you're not going to be a guardian, what else are you going to do?"

"I told you. I have things I have to take care of." I wish she'd give me a better explanation. I wish she would've trusted me a little more.

Arching an eyebrow, I asked, "Things that are going to get you in trouble?"

She shrugged and I simply couldn't hold back my laughter. "Stupid question, huh? Everything you do gets you in trouble." I set my elbow up on the couch's arm a bit uncomfortably and set my chin in my hand. "Why'd you come to me for money?"

She stated this as if it were the most obvious thing ever. "Because you have it."

This also made me laugh. "And why do you think I'll give it to you?" It didn't matter; I would've given it to her in a heartbeat anyway. Playing hard-to-get was my thing. On better days, at least.

Rose didn't say anything, just stared at me. Her expression changed to something somewhat seductive and.. _charming_. My smile disappeared, my eyes narrowing, frustration clear on my face. I looked away hastily.

"Damn it, Rose. Don't do that. Not now. You're playing on how I feel about you. That's not fair." I took another swing of vodka. It really wasn't fair, the way she was using me. I couldn't tell what hurt most; the fact that she was leaving and using me to do so, or the fact that she didn't seem to care, didn't show a speck of consideration to my feelings. Both, I decided.

Getting up, she moved over to me and sat down, so, so close to me. She took my hand in hers.

"Please, Adrian," She said. "Please help me. You're the only one I can go to." At that moment, I wanted so badly to read her mind.

"That's not fair," I repeated, my words slurring slightly. "You're using those come-hither eyes on me, but it's not me you want. It's always been Belikov, and God only knows what you'll do now that's he gone." Now that I think about it, I was technically saving her from herself. And I was right, about everything so far.

"Will you help me?" She asked, still playing up that stupid, goddamned charisma. "You're the only one I could talk to... the only one who really understands me..."

I gulped, whipping up a question, which the answer to could break my heart completely. But I had to be brave. "Are you coming back?" I murmured.

"Eventually."

How long was eventually? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Never? Tipping my head back, I let out a heavy breath, running my fingers through my hair. It was messy and tangled. "Maybe it's for the best if you leave. Maybe you'll get over him faster if you go away for a while. Wouldn't hurt to be away from Lissa's aura either. It might slow yours from darkening - stop this rage you always seem to be in. You need to be happier. And stop seeinng ghosts." I was being completely honest, even though the truth was breaking me down slowly.

"Lissa isn't why I'm seeing ghosts. Well, she is, but not in the way you think. I see ghosts because I'm shadow-kissed. I'm tied to the world of the dead, and the more I kill, the stronger that connection becomes. It's why I see the dead and why I feel weird when Strigoi are near. I can sense them now. They're tied to that world too."

I frowned. "You're saying the auras mean nothing? That you aren't taking away the effects of spirit?"

"No. That's happening too. That's why this has all been so confusing. I thought there was just one thing going on, but there've been two. I see the ghosts because of being shadow-kissed. I'm getting... upset and angry... bad, even... because I'm taking away Lissa's dark side. That's why my aura's darkening, why I'm getting so enraged lately. Right now, it just sort of plays out as a really bad temper..." She frowned, clearly replaying something in her head. Dimitri, no doubt. "But I don't know what it'll turn into next."

I sighed. "Why is everything so complicated with you?" I wasn't really complaining, though. Honestly, I actually kind of loved that about her.

"Will you help me?" She asked once again. "Please, Adrian? Please help me." She ran her fingers along my hand, sending a shiver down my spine. This was horrible of her; she knew how I felt. She had to have known.

Finally, I looked back at her. For the first ever, I felt vulnerable. Mustering up as much, I guess you could call it dignity, as I could, I gazed into her eyes. "When you come back, will you give me a fair shot?"

"What do you mean?" She looked unfazed.

"It's like I said. You've never wanted me, never even considered me. The flowers, the flirting... it rolled right off you. You were so gone for him, and nobody noticed. If you go do your thing, will you take me seriously? Will you give me a chance when you return?" The flirting, the flowers, the perfume; all of it was supposed to give her at least a hint. It was supposed to show her _something_. She was supposed to open her eyes and see how much I wanted her, needed her, even.

She just stared. I couldn't tell if she'd expected this or what, her face was completely blank. I stared back at her earnestly, staying as completely serious and calm as I could.

"Will you?" I repeated. I hated repeating myself.

"Of course." It took a lot for me to hide my shock this time. There was no evidence that she was being serious or honest, but there was nothing to prove she was lying. Her tone was almost flat, but there was a hint of something convincing that was quite intriguing in my position.

I looked away and drank some more vodka. The bottle was almost empty. "When are you leaving?

"Tomorrow." Shit.

Setting the bottle down, I stood up and walked off into my bedroom. Returning with a large stack of cash, I handed it to Rose silently then picked up the phone and started to make a few calls. The sun was up, so, of course, the human world would be up wide and awake, unlike the Moroi world. I made a bank account for her in Missoula, putting in as much money as I could manage. It killed me to do all of this, not because I was giving away my money, but because knowing it was only helping Rose get further away from me. A random quote occurred to me, a quote I never cared for or believed in; if you love someone, set them free. If it's meant to be, they'll come back to you.

_To you_. Less than likely.

When I finished the calls, I handed Rose a piece of paper with the name and address of the bank in Missoula. "Go there," I advised her. "I'm guessing you have to go to Missoula first anyway if you're actually going on to anywhere civilized. There's an account set up for you with... a lot of money in it. Talk to them, and they'll finish the paperwork with you."

She stood up and stuffed the bills in her jacket. I watched her closely, my heart aching. I wished there was a way I could make her stay just a little longer. Stall her, talk to her some more. But what was there to say anymore? "Thank you," She said, and without hesitating, reached out and _hugged_ me. My heart nearly shattered, knowing this would be our last hug, or even physical contact, until God knows when. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her for several seconds. I let go and she brushed her lips against my cheek as we pulled apart, and my breath caught in my throat, my whole body warming up.

"I won't forget this," She murmured in my ear. My world was crashing in on me.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me where you're going?" I asked, a bit of hope flickering inside.

"No," She said. "I'm sorry."

"Just keep your promise and come back."

"I didn't actually use the word _promise_," She pointed out.

I forced a smile even though it hurt me to do so, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "You're right. I'm going to miss you, little dhampir." _So much_. "Be careful. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll be waiting for you."

She thanked me once more and left wordlessly. I stood by the door, my hand tightening around the almost empty bottle of vodka. Swinging down the last of it, I sat back down on the couch slowly, setting the empty bottle down on the table and wondering how the hell I'd lost the one thing I cherished most so quickly. And most of all, how I'd let it happen.


End file.
